


Love

by The_Ace_Anon



Series: self-indulgent ahit/apop au [4]
Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Physical Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27978372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ace_Anon/pseuds/The_Ace_Anon
Summary: He loves her and she loves him, and that'll never change.....right?(Surprise surprise: it's more of the crossover au me and my friend made!!! Logan, Derek, and Debrah all belong to @darkwarfy on tumblr)
Relationships: The Florist & The Prince (A Hat in Time), The Florist (A Hat in Time) & Original Character(s), The Prince & Queen Vanessa (A Hat in Time), The Prince (A Hat in Time) & Original Character(s), The Prince/Queen Vanessa (A Hat in Time)
Series: self-indulgent ahit/apop au [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019415
Kudos: 6





	Love

When he first meets Vanessa, she’s small and sad. Quiet green eyes with a hint of red, wearing a beautiful blue dress that doesn’t fit her at all. She’s standing by her mother’s side, looking lonely and like she’d rather be anywhere else. He thinks he could manage that. So he walks up to her, creates an excuse for the two of them to leave and runs off with her. He takes her out of the ballroom, into the gardens, hidden where no one will see them. He asks her if she wants to see something cool, she nods, he lets his fire lose. It’s been roaring in his chest the entire night, begging to burn and so he lets it rise up out of his skin. It curls around his arm, licking eagerly at the cold, nighttime air. Vanessa watches it with wonder...and a small bit of fear. Asks if he’s allowed to do magic, a slight tremble in her voice. He’s confused by the question, why wouldn’t he be allowed to do magic, but answers it with a bright yes all the same. 

She shakily raises her own arm, right up next to his, and ice starts to form from her palm. He gasps as frost and crystal covers her arm, her eyes look away from him, down to the floor, as if expecting something horrible to happen. He puts out his fire, letting it burn away to smoke, and, excitedly shaking, asks if she can make it snow. She blinks at him, before the temperature drops and snow begins to fall down onto them. A large smile breaks out on his face and he jumps around, trying to catch a snowflake on his tongue. Rambles burst out of his mouth, possibilities and ideas about what they could do. Snow in summer! Or in the house!! Snowball fights anytime of the year!!! He brightens and burns and talks, and she brightens too and smiles and laughs. Distantly, he wonders if he’s just made a friend.

\-------

When he first meets Camila, he’s wandering through the forest. The forest calls to him, calls to the shadows in his soul, and he’s too bored to resist the call. Sticks and leaves crunch under his feet, mask knocking against his face as he hops in streams and climbs over trees. He’s trying to hunt down a fire spirit, when he sees her. A small girl, humming among the flowers, maskless. He stumbles, warnings from his parents and the shadows themselves echoing in his mind, “To be maskless in the forest is to be destroyed”. So he stumbles and runs toward her, slams his own mask onto her face. She startles and he feels something wrap around his ankle. His body moves, the world blurs, the air is knocked out of his lungs, his arm hurts. He takes deep gasps, struggling to get his air back, looks over to see his arm, twisted the wrong way, bloody white peeking out of the skin. 

The girl starts screaming. He gasps and tries to curl up, tears leaking out of his eyes when the movement only makes the pain worse. She helps him up, apologizes flowing out of her mouth. She asks him where he lives and blanches when he says the castle. He hears her mutter under her breath ‘did I just break a  _ prince’s _ arm’. Vines and flowers wrap around his arm to stop the blood, a scream forcing its way out of his mouth as they do. Cam walks him to the castle. The guards startle when they see their prince, bleeding and hurt and outside of the castle walls. She’s left outside the gates, and the guards carry him to the medical wing. 

When the bleeding stops and his bones are back in their rightful place and his arm is all bandaged up, he’s locked in his room. ‘For your own safety’, so the forest doesn’t steal him away again. Cam visits him almost everyday, sneaking up to his window and, after begging his parents to let her in, going into his room. She brings him cool rocks and flowers that wave at him. Whenever Cam’s around, all the plants seem to come to life. They move and hug her, climb up around her legs, turn to look at her like she’s the sun feeding them life. They don’t like him at first, scared of the fire roaring inside his chest that could just as easily feed them as it could eat them, but overtime they warm up to him. Cam keeps coming back even after his arm heals, it takes him a while to realize he just made another friend.

\-------

He’s waiting by the bookstore when Vanessa shows up. She breaks into a smile the second she sees him and runs towards him, he catches her with a hug. They stand there for a moment, holding each other and enjoying the other’s presence. No one stares at them or even glances. The plain, brown cloaks and lack of jewels hiding their identities as royals. They break apart, he takes her hand and leads her into the store, eager to show her some of his favorites. They spend at least an hour or two in the store, him rambling to her about his favorite stories, her showing him some of her favorite fairy tales. It’s refreshing, to be in public without the gawking or the stares. They aren’t royals at the moment, just two teenagers having fun. He leads her around the town, knowing full well how little of it she’s seen.

He shows her the bakery that makes the best cookies, the kind that come right out of the oven and melt in your mouth, brings her to a clothing store he knew she’d like, lets her run around the market and take in as much as she can. She loves it, he knew she would. Her mother never lets her out of the house, so any opportunity to get away from her and explore is always welcome. Vanessa gets excited over every new thing, asks him hundreds of questions, he makes sure to answer every single one. They hold hands the entire time. Once it starts to get late, the sun giving way to the stars, they grab some oranges from the market and go up to his favorite hillside. The one with the best view of the night sky. 

While they peel and take apart the oranges, he talks to her about space. Points out the constellations, tells her about the stars and their different names. She says it’s beautiful, he agrees, he doesn’t notice she’s staring at him and not the sky. They stay there as long as they can, telling stories, looking at the sky, being together, until she needs to go back. He makes sure to leave the remaining oranges as an offering, a thanks to the spirits for letting them star-gaze on their hill, and leads Vanessa back to her castle. He helps her sneak past the guards, hiding them with shadows, makes sure she gets into her room safely, kisses her goodbye, and goes back home.

Later, when he’s thinking about moving in with her in a few years, he imagines every day will be like that. Talking to each other about the things they love, sharing food and laughs, exploring the town and forest as much as they can and, when they’re tired, holding each other and staring up at the stars. He’s wrong.

\--------

At first, after he moves in, everything is good. Vanessa loves having him around, she drags him all over the castle, shows him everything she can, talks about her life and the servants and the castle itself, he loves every second of it. He’s given his own room, but both of them know full well he’ll never sleep in it. He moves all his books into it, Vanessa helps him and even goes through some, he lets her borrow a few. He pushes the bed into a corner and drags all the pillows and blankets off it, places them all in front of the small fireplace and declares it as his pile. During dinner he makes sure to personally introduce himself to Vanessa’s mother, he feels the queen’s frosty stare on him the entire night.

After a few days, when they both have some free time, Vanessa teaches him how to bake. His first attempt is a disaster, a burned mess they both laugh over, but after a few days he finally manages to make something editable. It tastes horrible, both of them make sure to eat every bite. In his spare time, he picks up sewing. He gives Vanessa the first plushie he manages to make, a small sheep. She loves it, goes on about how cute it is, they make a tiny crown for it and declare it Prince Sheep. The two of them try to spend as they can together, but whenever he gets near her he can feel the queen’s eyes on him. It doesn’t take long for the accusations to start, the demands that he leave. Her mother seems to find fault in every single thing he does, questioning her daughter’s choice to date him at every turn.

It takes a toll on them, one night he finds Vanessa crying in her room. She screams at him through the tears, bruises his skin while she sobs. He lets her cry, lets her scream, and holds her close once she’s calmed. He kisses her tears away, promises not to let her mother drive him away, promises to stay with her forever, talks to her until her frown turns into a smile. They spend the night on the floor, her in his lap, him holding her, the fire burning in his chest keeping her warm the whole night, the ice in hers sapping it. They stay together, despite the fights and the stares and the demands. Until one day it all comes to a climax.

The queen slaps him, screams at him for tainting her daughter, threatens to kick him out, to send him back home to his parents and throw away the treaty. Vanessa watches the whole thing. The next morning, her mother is dead, frozen to death in her sleep. At the age of 18, Vanessa is the new queen. There are rumors, there always are, but there’s no real proof and he doesn’t pay them any heed. Vanessa is, understandably, upset, so he makes sure to be with her as much as he possibly can. He understands when she starts questioning his friends and the time he spends with them, she’s all alone in the castle, working and stressed, while he’s out and away from her, anyone would be upset. He understands when she starts forbidding him from leaving at all, she just wants to make sure he’s safe, and, really, everything he needs is in the castle, so there’s no reason for him to leave. 

He understands when she starts hurting him. Vanessa has been forbidden from magic all her life, he can’t fault her for not knowing how to use it when she’s finally allowed. He tries her best to teach her, but he has fire, not ice, and no matter how much he works Vanessa still has slip ups. Times where frost will spread on his arm, times when he’ll wake up shaking with snowflakes in his hair, times where she’ll scream and cry and ice covers his skin. He stays through all of it, holding her and keeping her warm. His fire is dwindling these days, but he can still warm her, even if there’s nothing left for himself. 

He learns how to hide the bruises and scars with make-up. They’re all accidents, he knows they are, she never means to hurt him, but he doesn’t want someone else to see them and get the wrong idea. He learns how to melt Vanessa’s ice, it leaves his skin blue and numb, leaves his body shaky and off, hurts  _ so much _ , but he still smiles through it, for her. Still holds her, still keeps her warm with the dying flame in his chest, even as she spreads sparkling crystal over his arms and back. Vanessa starts getting upset when he spends time alone, starts forbidding him from interacting with female servants, slowly stops listening to him talk. He understands, she’s stressed and nervous, scared he might leave her and after everything her mother did he can’t fault her for that. So he tries to avoid other women, let’s her talk and bites down the words in his own mouth, stops spending time alone and instead spends it with her.

He loves her and she loves him. It’s just a bad spell, she’s just stressed, it’ll get better one day. He just has to wait. 

\-------

On one of the rare days he’s allowed to leave the castle, he runs into Camilla again. He’s investigating a flower shop he’s never seen before, enters it to find Cam at the counter. She barely glances up at him, focused on a plant, and simply welcomes him. He knows instantly it’s her, he hasn’t seen her in years and she looks so much older now, but he’d know that freckled face anywhere. She looks up at him when he shakily says her name, stares at him for a moment before breaking into a smile and tackling him. “Where have you been”s and “I haven’t seen you in so long”s are exchanged. The two of them sit at the counter, swapping stories while she runs the shop. She tells him about moving to East Subcon, about finally leaving her family and making a new start elsewhere, about the plants she’s taken in, about her hopes to travel and find even more species. He tells her about moving into the castle, about his work as a prince, about the books he’s read.

It’s not until the shop is closed down and the sun is starting to set that Cam finally asks about Vanessa. Teases him for not talking about his love life. He just laughs, and starts to talk about her. Tells her about Vanessa teaching him to bake, tells her about the nights eating oranges and looking at stars, tells her about the huge library in the castle, how he’d like to show it to her one day. He’d love to keep talking but the sun is gone, he’s stayed far too long. He says goodbye to Cam, hugs her, promises to visit again when he can. Vanessa’s waiting for him when he returns.

She’s upset, he knew she would be. She shouts at him, asks where he’s been, why he was out for so long, asks if he knows how worried she was, demands to know if he’s seeing someone else. He does his best to calm her, to assure her that no he’s not cheating on her, he just lost track of time, he’s sorry, he won’t do it again, he loves her. He holds her despite the crying and screaming, despite the ice covering his skin, despite the snow turning his hair white, despite the shaking in his body that refuses to go away. He holds her until the ice slows, until the screaming stops, until she’s just sobbing into his arms. He can’t warm her anymore, the fire in his chest nothing more than weak embers now, but he tries anyway, tries to give her any heat he has left. He helps her to bed, tucks her in and gives her a kiss on the head. That night, when he tries to melt the ice again, his fire refuses to come out. He spends the entire night cold, alone, and shaking.

Times he’s allowed to leave the castle become even rarer after that, most days he doesn’t even dare to ask. Though, every once in a blue moon when Vanessa’s in a good mood and he can think of a solid reason to leave, she lets him go past the walls and into town. He feels horrible for not telling Vanessa about Cam, for having a friend without her permission. He tries to rationalize it in his head, tries to tell himself that he’s allowed to have friends and talk to others without her permission. Doesn’t stop him from feeling any less guilty. Cam’s always excited to see him, always wants to hear about how he’s doing and what his life’s like. It’s refreshing, talking to someone who actually wants to hear what he has to say. He enjoys hearing about her days too, dealing with annoying customers, how the plants are doing, the horrible blind dates she’s been on recently, he soaks up all of it. He tries to talk about Vanessa as little as possible, even as Cam teases him for being shy about his love life, not wanting to accidentally say anything bad, not wanting her to get the wrong impression about their relationship. Then, during one visit, she sees the scars.

He’s helping her run the shop, watering plants and moving boxes. Without thinking about it, he rolls up his sleeves so they don’t get soaked. He doesn’t realize the bruises and hand-shaped scars on his arms are now fully visible until Cam quietly asks him what happened. He’s confused at first, at the question, at the horrified look on her face, until he follows her gaze to his scar-littered arms. He jolts, quickly pulls down his sleeves, avoids her eyes, says it’s nothing. He just accidently burned himself a few times, bumped into door frames, fell out of a tree, haha silly him….being so clumsy. They both know he’s lying, he’s never been a very good liar. Camilla closes down the shop, brings him into the back room, makes him look her in the eyes, and firmly asks who’s been hurting him.

The embers in his chest flick anxiously, the shadows trembling and twitching. He wishes he never asked to leave, wishes he hadn’t visited today, wishes he hadn’t been  _ stupid _ enough to roll down his sleeves. He watches Cam’s eyes look him over, trying to puzzle out who could get away with hurting a prince. Certainly not a servant or a guard, he’s been away from his parents for years and these are clearly recent, there’s no king, the old queen is dead, he sees the moment it clicks. Quietly, Cam asks if Vanessa has been abusing him. His silence speaks volumes. Her grip tightens slightly, he knows she’s not upset with  _ him _ but he still can’t stop himself from tensing at the motion. The two stand there for a moment, in the tense quiet, until he finally finds the words to speak.

He has to speak, he knows he has to, he can’t let Cam think Vanessa’s hurting him, she’s not. She’s just stressed, she just has trouble controlling her magic, he just keeps messing up, it’s really all his fault, it’s not even that big of a deal. Cam doesn’t seem to agree, despite his attempts to convince her it’s fine, her frown just deepens. There’s a look in her eyes he can’t decipher, he’s not sure he wants to. He has to fight to get the words out, stuttering and stumbling all over them. Cam hugs him gently, careful not to hold him too tightly. He’s not sure why until he feels a drop of water on his hand and realizes he’s started crying. He holds her back and breaks down into sobs.

He has to leave, he’s out of time and he can’t afford to be late again. His tears have dried, his head feels numb and foggy, his eyes are still red but he’s sure Vanessa won’t notice. Cam tries to stop him, says he can stay with her, they both know that’s not possible. He smiles at her, promises that he’ll be ok, this is just a bad spell, things will get better soon. She looks unconvinced, but lets him go. He feels her stare on his back as he leaves.

\------

Helsoner is  _ very _ different from Subcon. For one thing, the clothes are a lot stuffier. He can’t stop tugging at his collar, unused to clothes this…..tight. Vanessa hates the room agreements, complaining about them any chance she gets, about how she isn’t even allowed to sleep with her prince. There’s nothing he can do about it, but he tries to comfort her all the same, spending as much time with her as he can so she doesn’t feel lonely. They came over to discuss trade agreements with Prince (soon to be King) Logan, but the prince doesn’t seem to want to give them the time of day. Intentionally saying their names wrong (who says Thea as The-a???), making snide remarks. If it wasn’t for his husband, who also happened to be visiting, he’s sure Prince Logan would’ve outright insulted them. 

Prince Derek is much more polite than their husband, but they’re that formal politeness, the kind that you only use because you want to be on someone’s good side, the kind that he hates. But he can deal with it, they didn’t come here to make friends after all. So they do the little song and dance that is negotiations, put on smiles and a polite tone, hope that it’s all over quickly so he can go back to Subcon where the clothes are actually comfortable and the food tastes. A part of him had hoped that while they were in a different country, one that forbids magic use, Vanessa would be more careful not to freeze him. That part of him was wrong. But it’s alright, he can’t blame her for having magic that refuses to listen. So he holds her even as she freezes him, lets her take all her anger and frustration out on him (after all, isn’t that what he’s here for?).

When she’s calmed, he leaves the room, knowing that she doesn’t like it when he melts her ice in front of her. His body’s shaking horribly, his breath fogging as his fire heats his body up in a desperate attempt to keep warm. He’s gotten good at saving his fire lately, only using it for emergencies. It’s still weaker than it used to be, flickering and dim in his chest, but at least it’s  _ there _ . His room’s too far away so he goes into a small side room, one he doesn’t expect anyone, save for perhaps a servant, to enter. He doesn’t care if a servant sees him, he’s sure they know not to ask questions. He tugs off his glove with his teeth, brings out his fire, and begins the process of melting. He’s about half way done when the door opens. He looks up and- oh, that’s not a servant.

Prince Logan stands in the doorway, staring right at his frozen arm. He can’t breath. He doesn’t know what to do, servants might not ask questions but a prince definitely will, a prince can spread information and tell others and be believed, a prince could use information like this to his advantage. He needs to say something because the two of them are just standing there, him still struggling to breathe, the other prince still staring at his arm with wide eyes, and he needs to figure a way out of this but he can’t talk his words all trapped in his throat and he doesn’t know what to do. Logan has to know where the ice is from, only one person in this castle is an ice-user and Vanessa’s magic isn’t exactly a secret, and now because he knows he can tell others and if he tells others Vanessa will find out and if Vanessa finds out- if- if she finds out- she’ll- she’ll- he thinks he’s going to throw up. 

Words burst out of his mouth, unable to be bottled up any longer. Begging for him to not tell, that it was an accident, it wasn’t that big of a deal, please don’t tell anyone, it was his fault anyways, he can’t let this get out, please don’t tell anyone, he knows Logan hates him, he doesn’t mind, the other can hate him as much as he wants, just please don’t tell anyone, he can melt himself, he’s fine, please don’t tell anyone. His panicked words seem to push the other into action, Logan takes a few steps towards him, hands out in a calming gesture. He scrambles away from the prince, pressing his arm into his chest, his back hitting the wall. His words are nothing more than a panicked stutter at this point, he might be crying, he can’t tell anymore, he just wants the other prince to  _ go  _ **_away_ ** .

Slowly, Logan walks up to him and kneels down, promises he won’t tell anyone, promises he won’t say a word, says it’s going to be ok, asks to see his arm. He sits there, shaking from cold or panic he can’t tell, questioning his chances of making a run for it. After a moment, he lets go of his arm and shakily hands it to the prince. Logan gently takes it, looks over the frostbitten flesh, takes off his gloves, asks him to hold still, puts his uncovered hands on his arm, and sits there………..he isn’t really sure what’s happening. He’s in a small room with the Prince of Helsoner, trying to push down a panic attack, maybe crying, his arm frozen, and instead of freaking out and yelling like any normal person Logan’s just sitting there with his hands on his arm. After a few seconds he’s tempted to ask what the hell he’s doing, when the blue tint on his skin starts to recede. 

The odd prickling feeling starts to fade, the redness on his arm fades too. It’s still  _ cold _ and bad, but he can actually feel his arm now. Once his arm looks more or less the same, Logan lets go of it and puts his gloves back on. He’s…..still not sure what just happened. He moves his fingers and is surprised when they move….normally. Most of the time after a melting they’ll all stiff, and it takes hours for his arm to start feeling normal again. But this time it’s just….normal??? Already???? He’s so confused. He puts his own glove back on, still staring at his suddenly ok arm. 

Logan looks like he’s about to say something but before he can get out a single word, he thanks him, asks him again not to tell anyone, and runs out of the room. The second he’s out of sight, he dives into a shadow, letting it cover and hide him. He has the shadows take him to his room. He gets his night clothes on, falls into bed, and tries to turn his brain off for a few hours. He fails.

\------

For the next week he can’t stop thinking about it. About Logan seeing him, seeing  _ her _ ice. Everytime Vanessa talks to him, drags him away where they can be alone, could be a time when she  _ knows _ . Breathing is a constant fight, his lungs drowning in anxiety and barely concealed panic. He doesn’t want to see Prince Logan again, wants to be as far away from the other man as possible, but it’s hard to do negotiations without being near someone, and the shorter prince now seems determined to accompany him on walks. It has to be because of what he saw, but Logan never brings it up, just walks with him and talks about plants and medicines and his inventions. He enjoys hearing about them (the plant talk often reminds him of Cam) and he’s happy that the prince seems to actually  _ want _ to be around him now, but a part of him just wants the other to leave. 

Everytime he sees Logan he’s reminded of an iced arm, of being trapped in a small room, of the pure panic from being _seen_ , **of what Vanessa would do if she knew,** and he feels like he’s going to throw up all over again. He’s constantly on edge, can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t relax, too scared of the bomb hanging over his head, ready to drop at any moment. It’s starting to show in his magic. Not in his fire, it’s too weak and his hold on it is too tight, but in his shadows, which is arguably _worse_. The shadows twitch and writhe anxiously around him now, a few times he’s caught hands trying to creep out and comfort him. He appreciates it, but he’d appreciate it more if they did it while he was alone, not in the middle of a meeting where multiple people could see them. He’s too stressed to read, his mind refusing to focus on the words, and his hands shake too badly for sewing. He’s in the library, struggling to read, when Prince Derek approaches him.

He only glances up at the Borna prince before going back to his reading, much more comfortable around them than their husband. Derek sits in front of him, looking a little awkward. A moment passes, and then Derek starts speaking, and then they tell him that they know Vanessa’s abusing him, and then he  _ freezes _ . He knows instantly that it’s because of Logan, that Logan told them, and if Logan told his husband then he could’ve told others,  **_Vanessa could know_ ** . He stops breathing. They’re still talking to him but he’s not listening. What if someone already told her, what if when he goes back to her room she’s there  _ waiting for him _ , how angry would she be if she knew he was stupid enough to get caught with a iced arm. His eyes sting, and he can feel tears start to form. His grip on the now-closed book tightens, his hands shaking even worse than before. He forces himself to put the book down so he doesn’t burn it.

Somewhere in the mixture of words he hears Derek say “If I’d known she was hurting you” and without thinking about it he stands up. Quietly, he hears his own voice say “she’s not hurting me”. Derek stands up too, reaches for him, maybe trying to comfort him, when a shadow pulls them back, stopping them from touching him. The shadows spaz uncontrollably around him, twitching and forming with his anger. He doesn’t notice, he doesn’t care, he only hears his own voice yelling, echoing through the otherwise empty library:

“ **SHE’S NOT HURTING ME, SHE LOVES ME.** ”

He leaves. Ignores Derek’s attempts to calm him, the shadows stopping any attempts to follow him. He’s tempted to go back to his own room, to ask the guards not to let anyone in and ignore everything for a few hours, but he needs to find out if Vanessa knows. The quicker he goes to her, the less upset she’ll be. Getting caught by a prince is one thing,  _ avoiding her _ on top of that would just make everything worse. So he forces himself forward, despite how much he wants to hide in his room and read and pretend nothing happened. He gives a quiet hello to the guards and enters. When she sees who it is, Vanessa smiles at him, he’s never been more terrified in his life. He steadies his shaking hands, smiles at her, asks how she’s doing, tries to pretend like nothing’s wrong, like the bomb hanging over his head isn’t moments away from falling, like the string holding it up isn’t fraying away into nothing.

Vanessa sighs, talks about her day, complains about the gloves and Prince Logan and how he keeps saying her name wrong. Then her eyes narrow, she glances over at him, and he knows it’s over, the bomb has dropped. She approaches him, smiling sweetly, grabs his arm...and asks what he’s been doing on those walks with the Helsoner prince. He’s never felt more relieved in his life, that  _ this _ is what she wants to talk about, that she might still not know despite Logan telling. He makes sure to keep his voice gentle, to keep his hands still, tells her that the prince has just been asking to walk with him lately, that’s all, nothing of note. She asks if they talk, he says no. 

She smiles at him, puts a hand on his cheek, says she loves him. He smiles back, despite the frost spreading over his cheek, puts a hand over hers, says he loves her too. His mind drifts back to the library, to Derek, “I know Vanessa’s abusing you”. He forces himself back to the present. Vanessa isn’t abusing him, isn’t hurting him, if anyone’s hurting anyone, he’s hurting her. Once he gets better, once he fixes his problems, once she’s used to being queen, once she’s less stressed, everything will get better, it has too. He’s willing to wait, he’s willing to wait and change as much as she needs him to. After all, what is love but suffering for the sake of another’s happiness?

\------

Logan and Debrah’s shenanigans are always fun to watch, especially when he actually knows who Debrah is. Derek’s seated right next to him, watching and making comments every now and then, adding fuel to the fire. He’s still not entirely comfortable around the other prince, the memory of the library encounter still making him shake, but he understands they (and, he supposes, their husband) were just trying to help. After all, Cam had tried to help in a similar way multiple times, trying to convince him that how Vanessa was treating him was wrong. And, as upset as he was that Logan had told someone so quickly, he hates being mad at others. Being angry is a horrible feeling, a slimy, burning scream that refuses to die down. Being the product of that anger is even worse, he knows that from experience. So he’s calmed, for now. Started letting the others talk to him again, started responding with more than cold formality. Not completely forgiven, nor forgotten, but alright all the same.

Neither of the princes have brought up Vanessa since…..what happened, which he’s thankful for. Debrah brought it up once (when the two of them finally talked for the first time, simply telling him she knew and if he needed help she was here) but hasn’t again which he’s  _ also _ thankful for. He likes Debrah, she’s smart and fun to talk to and knows….a surprising amount of law. She reminds him a bit of Cam, he thinks they’d get along. She and Logan are now complaining about….soup? An odd topic change, but sure. He glances up at the sky, noticing how late it’s getting, and knows he needs to leave soon. He needs to go check on Vanessa, she got upset with him earlier for spending too much time with the other princes and ‘that servant girl’ who she seems convinced he’s cheating with. 

In all honesty, he feels like the idea of having an affair with him would make Deb just as uncomfortable as it makes him, not to mention he’s pretty sure Debrah doesn’t even  _ like _ men, but he didn’t think he should tell Vanessa that. He stands up, stretches, announces he needs to go. Logan complains, he apologizes, says he wishes he could hang out with them a bit longer but he needs to check on Vanessa. Logan complains even more. That makes him smile a bit, but the Helsoner prince’s complaints don’t change the situation, no matter how much he wishes he could stay. Derek stands too, wishes him goodnight, and  _ hugs him _ .

He stiffens.  _ What the hell are they doing _ ? Logan, their  **_husband_ ** , is right there, and Derek’s just hugging him? Right in front of him?? Sure Logan doesn’t look upset, but that doesn’t mean anything. He couldn’t count the number of times he did something, thinking it was ok because Vanessa didn’t seem upset, until she got him alone. They quickly notice how uncomfortable he is and let go, apologizing, saying they thought the other was ok with hugs. He’s perfectly fine with hugs, loves them in fact, but things will probably go easier for Derek if Logan thinks it won’t happen again so he doesn’t correct them. Instead simply says it’s alright, properly says goodbye to the others, and leaves.

The lie hangs over his head, he really doesn’t want Derek to actually think hugs make him uncomfortable. So, a few days later when he’s alone with the Borna prince, he confesses that he lied when he said he didn’t like hugs, he actually loves them, he just didn’t want them to get in trouble. Derek gets a bit confused at that, asks what he means. He explains, said that they made the mistake of hugging him in front of their husband and thought if he made Logan think it wouldn’t happen again he wouldn’t get mad at them. They get a look in their eyes that he can’t decipher, one that reminds him of the look Cam gets whenever he talks about Vanessa.

Carefully, Derek asks him why he thinks Logan would be upset if they hugged someone else. He gets a bit confused at that, asks why  _ wouldn’t _ Logan be upset about it, they’re showing affection towards another person when they’re  _ married _ , he might think they’re cheating on him. Derek gives him another Look, says that Logan’s perfectly fine with him showing affection towards friends, that if he wasn’t there would be a problem, asks if Vanessa gets upset when he shows affection towards others. He’s even more confused now, how did this conversation suddenly turn toward Vanessa??? Still, he answers, says of course she does, says she feels unloved whenever he does, asks how he could continue to do something when it upsets her so much. Derek goes quiet for a moment, before telling him he’s allowed to show affection towards others, that if Vanessa has a problem with that something’s wrong.

He doesn’t respond.

\-------

It’s cold. The fire in his chest has died, choked by the ice, the shadows have frozen in place, and it’s cold. Icy chains bind him to the wall, turning his skin flushed and blue, covering him in frost. He can’t move, couldn’t even if he wasn’t chained, the cold settled too deeply in his joints, his body heavy, his thoughts blurred. He’s long lost track of the days spent in this freezing darkness, barely remembers what came before, if there’s even a world outside of chains and cold. But….he  _ can _ remember coming back to the castle, remembers Vanessa crying and enraged, remembers being frozen and dragged down to the cellar, remembers being chained to the wall, remembers her ignoring his pleas and apologies, remembers her ignoring his tears, remembers her gagging him and leaving him alone in the cold. He remembers hundreds of visits, days upon days upon days, hopes of freedom slowly dying as days and weeks and months passed.

The door opens, he doesn’t look up. He already knows who’s there. Vanessa lifts his head, makes his dulled eyes look at her, and smiles at him. Her hands are the warmest thing he’s felt in months. She’s brought food this time, actual food, and water. She unties the gag, the second it’s gone he erupts into a coughing fit. She holds the food up to his mouth so he can eat it, and he hates it. He hates being fed like a child, hates being chained up, hates this room, hates the constant cold, hates that he can’t just die and leave this place forever, but he eats it. He still has the scars from the last time he refused her food, and he’s not exactly eager to freshen them. Vanessa talks to him while she feeds him, talks about her day and what’s been happening in the kingdom. He doesn’t respond, he hasn’t responded in a long time, she doesn’t seem to notice. 

Once the food has been eaten and the water drinken he lets his head fall back down, too tired to keep it up for much longer. His overgrown hair falls with him, hiding Vanessa from his view. A part of him hopes she’ll forget the gag this time, but is quickly dashed as he feels her hand pulling the gag back around his head, forcing his mouth open so she can put it in. She tells him she loves him, and leaves. She closes the door behind her, cutting off the light and once again leaving him in pitch black. He lets his eyes close, hoping he’ll be lucky enough to pass out for a few hours, or a few days. Time passes, he’s not sure how much time, he’s never sure, but it continues on. 

He can hear footsteps outside of his hidden room, voices, movement, the closest he’s gotten to seeing anyone but Vanessa. He listens to them move about, well used to their routines by now. When he was first locked up, he tried screaming for help through his gag but his screams never seemed to reach past the stone walls. Now he just listens, his voice too broken to scream even if he wanted to. The footsteps start to fade, the sounds of life leaving with them. Part of him wishes they could stay a bit longer, a reminder that the world still exists. Another part is glad they’re gone, a reminder of what he no longer has. A few minutes pass, and another set of footsteps comes down into the cellar, this set more frantic. This set has been appearing for a few days now, always at different times, always in a different area. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say they were looking for something.

Today, they’re close to the door, almost right in front of it. He can hear muttering too quiet for him to make out, tapping on the walls, the sound of objects being moved around. One of the taps happens to land on the door and the knock of wood sounds out, distinctive against the dull thud of stone. For the first time in a long time, he feels a surge of hope. There’s a pause, another tap on the door, then a full knock just to make sure. After a moment, he hears the scrape of something heavy being pushed across a stone floor, most likely the barrels Vanessa always moved in front of the door. There’s another pause, another knock, and then the door slams open. Standing in the doorway, is Debrah.

He has never been more happy to see her in his life. Deb gapes at him, eyes wide as if she didn’t actually expect to find him. He’s sure he looks horrible, clothes torn and ragged, skin pale and blue, hair limb and long, body thin and shaking. He makes a sound under his gag and it seems to snap her back to reality. She tries to break the chains but fails, not helped by how high up most of them are and how short she is. She leaves to get help, telling him to stay put as if there’s anything else he can do, and quickly returns with Derek in tow. The much taller prince manages to break them all, the second they’re gone he falls to the ground. Luckily before he can face plant Debrah catches him. He can’t walk, so Derek carries him. They try to insist he go to the medical wing but he refuses, he needs to talk to Vanessa, he needs to get her put away so she doesn’t hurt anyone when she realizes he’s missing.

They go up to one of the main meeting rooms. Debrah throws open the doors for them, revealing Vanessa in the middle of speaking to her court. Logan’s seated at the table as well, glaring daggers at her, his head snaps to them the second the door opens, and he stands in shock. Vanessa looks furious at the sight of him. Speaking’s hard, his voice quiet and shaky, words difficult to remember, but he forces himself to speak, forces himself to explain. The fire in his chest flickers, his voice grows louder, and before he knows it he’s yelling. All of it comes rushing out at once, being hurt and frozen and making excuse after excuse for her, being cut off from everyone but her, being forbidden to leave the castle without her express permission, being locked in the cellar and left in the freezing darkness for daring to talk to another person, it all mashes together and becomes a roaring fire that refuses to be put out again.

Vanessa looks offended, screams back that he deserved it, that she was only trying to do what was best for him. Ice starts forming around her, spiking out and spreading across the floor. He orders the guards to restrain her. Her yells become louder at that and, as the ice grows higher and sharper, screams:

“ **IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU NO ONE CAN!”**

His only warning is the faint sound of magic forming behind him. Ice breaks through his chest, tearing organs and shattering bones. He can’t breathe, his lungs destroyed by ice. He coughs and thick blood comes out of his mouth. Red drains out of him, splattering Derek, staining his clothes, dripping onto the floor. Someone starts screaming, another breaks the ice holding him up, taking him into their arms. The world blurs and darkens, everything feels distant and wrong. He’s aware of someone placing him on the floor, frantic speaking, the sound of someone laughing. His grip on reality losens, his eyes roll back in his head, and the world goes dark.

\-------

His eyes snap open, his breathing wild and quick as he takes in the room around him. He tries to sit up, but the pain in his chest keeps him down on the bed. His eyes dart around the room, taking in the medical wing. He sighs and lets his body go limp. Just a nightmare, she’s not here. He tiredly opens his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling. It’s somewhat surprising no one’s here, normally when he wakes up one of the princes or Cam or Debrah is at his bedside. Not that he’s complaining it’s….nice to be alone with his thoughts for a little bit. He shifts a little in the hospital bed and winces at the pain that pulses through his chest at the movement. His chest hurts constantly, sometimes the pain is so bad he can barely breathe, but it’s better than…..the alternative.

He’s honestly surprised he’s not dead. From what he’s heard, the icicle carved a giant hole in his chest. Broke through part of his spine and destroyed his ribs, tore apart most of his organs, almost completely drained him of blood…..and yet he’s still alive. It doesn’t make sense to him but if things making sense mean him being dead then maybe it’s for the best that a little nonsense happens every now and then. Absentmindedly, he picks at the bandages wrapped around his wrists, covering the gashes left by the chains. Apparently, the cuffs around his wrists had worn away his skin and the gashes got infected, just another fun thing for his body to survive. 

His mouth opens in a big yawn, his exhaustion already catching up to him despite the nightmares. He blinks heavily at the ceiling, wanting to turn on his side but knowing doing so could break his stitches and hurt his chest. He pulls his blanket up a bit more, stares at the ceiling until his vision blurs and his eyes refuse to stay open, tries to ignore the cold biting at the back of his mind, and falls back asleep.

\------

His unsteady footsteps echo through the darkened hallway. The shadows wrap around his legs in an attempt to stop him, he kicks them away. He’s so tired. His body just wants rest, but he can’t do it. He can’t sleep alone pretending there was never anyone next to him, a steady hand to hold in the night, a warm body to hug. His chest still aches from the ice, the bandages still wrapped firmly around his wrists, the cold still tearing away at his mind, the damage she caused still clear….but he keeps going back. She’s where she always is, where she’ll be for a long, long time. Locked up in the dungeons, staring at him from behind cold metal bars. She smiles when she sees him. The shadows scream at him to turn back, he keeps walking.

He sits in front of her cell, tired golden eyes staring at bright red ones. She reaches through the bars and takes his hand, he lets her. She ghosts her fingers over the bandages and the lines on his palm, asks him why he’s back. He doesn’t answer. In the back of his mind he knows why, it’s because he misses her. He misses talking with her, misses making her laugh, misses her smile, misses the baking mishaps and showing her his favorite books and exploring the town and the forest with her and everything that happened before it all started to go oh so wrong. He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t need to, she already knows why too. Instead he asks why she did it, why she sent sharp shards of ice crashing through his chest, why she locked him up, why she kept freezing and yelling and hurting him over and over again, why she keeps doing it. She speaks, poisoned honey dripping from her words. He drinks it all up.

\-------

He holds back a laugh as he watches Logan and Debrah bicker, this time over space and how the  _ sun is  _ **_not_ ** _ a planet why would you even think that- _ He’s fairly certain Debrah’s only arguing the opposite to provide a distraction, and to annoy her friend of course, but he’s thankful for it either way. Having woken up from another nightmare just a few moments ago, his hands are still incredibly shaky as he holds up the hot chocolate and takes another small sip from it. All of them are on the floor, Camila sitting next to him, Derek on his other side, and the space conspiracists right across from him, all of them covered with blankets. He puts the drink on the ground, not wanting to risk spilling it. He smiles as he listens to the chatter, but it starts to fade into the background as his mind slowly but surely drifts back to Vanessa alone in the cellar.

He remembers frozen hands drifting over his arms, creating chains as whispered words told him he deserved this. He remembers ice dyed red with blood breaking through his chest, remembers snow filling his lungs and frost beating through his veins. He should be down there with her, he- Cam takes his shaking hand, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glances over at her and she gives him a Look as if she knows what he was thinking. He pulls the blanket tighter over himself and tries to focus back on the conversation. Logan crosses his arms angrily and asks him to tell Deb that the moon is  _ not _ , in fact, a star. He raises an eyebrow and says he’s not sure, Debrah might have a point. Deb snorts. Logan gasps at him, putting a hand over his heart in false offence. He dramatically looks up and says he can’t believe all his friends have turned against him. Deb asks if he’s upset he lost the support of his “fellow space nerd”. Logan throws a pillow at her.

He keeps going, continues that no one’s actually  _ been _ to the moon, for all they know it could be a star. Or just an oddly large rock that they all confused for a plantoid. Logan points at him accusingly, says he knows that’s bullshit and he’s just saying it to spite him. Derek pops in, saying that the Subconion prince has a point and that they don't know why they’re talking about ‘plantoids’ and ‘spheres’ when the Earth is clearly flat. Logan  _ screams _ . Jumps up and angerly explains how it makes  _ no _ sense for the Earth to be flat and it’s clearly  _ not _ flat and anyone who believes it’s flat is wrong and stupid! Derek just says too bad, it’s flat. Logan says if the Earth’s flat, then how the hell can the moon orbit it. Derek says the moon’s fake. Logan goes on a tirade about how the  _ moon is not fake _ and they’re all wrong and bad. He can’t help but break down into giggles.

He loves it here, surrounded by warmth and laughter and space rants. Where he’s allowed to be near other people and hold hands without the constant fear of  _ her _ walking in and seeing him, where he’s allowed to laugh and be happy without being told he’s being obnoxious and annoying and he needs to stop. The cold lingers in the back of his mind, and he pushes it back. He tightens his hold on Cam’s hand and lets himself stay in the moment.

\-------

Vanessa’s escaped. He doesn’t know how,  _ no one _ knows how. No one saw where she could’ve gone, or found any trace of her. They just know the guards went down to her cell and found the bars broken and her cuffs on the ground, mangled and frozen. The castle’s gone into lockdown, soldiers have been sent into the villages to protect and keep watch for her, he has guards with him at all times now. He doesn’t….he doesn’t know what to do. Logan, Derek and Debrah are all off in different countries, having their own kingdoms to run and jobs to do. Cam’s in West Subcon, a family matter calling her away for a few weeks. For the first time in a long time, he’s on his own. He knows Vanessa didn’t go into town, no one reported any sign of her, she can’t still be in the castle, they would’ve found her when they searched the building. The only place she could’ve gone was the forest and if she’s gone there….well…...she might as well be as good as dead. He doubts the spirits will react kindly to a maskless human who attempted to murder a royal, even if she is a royal herself. 

He hates this. He thought he was finally done with her. He’d been getting better, he hadn’t visited her in months, but now she’s escaped. He’s starting to get paranoid, he sees her out of the corner of his eyes, swears he can hear her voice in the wind, whips around at every footstep scared it could be her coming for him. He can’t stop shaking. The biting cold in the back of his mind has worsened, constantly reminding him of chains and frost and ice slick with blood. He can’t sleep, can barely relax enough to fall and, even when he does, his dreams are fraught with nightmares. 

He dreams about ice cold hands, spreading frost across his skin, sprinkling snow in his hair, forming chains of ice around his wrists, pulling him somewhere he knows he’ll never come back from. He dreams about her voice, echoing through dark corridors, searching for him, black clawed hands pulling back curtains, bright red eyes snapping around for even a glimpse of him. He dreams about ice breaking through his chest, filling his throat with crystals, filling his lungs with snow, covering his heart with frost, painting his skin with blood, his screams nothing more than gurgles, unable to breath or move as the ice cuts through him. He dreams about her, smiling, laughing with him over his miserable attempts at baking, dancing with him, holding his hand and saying she’ll always love him, that he’ll always be her prince. He wakes up in tears after those, his chest aching with what could’ve been.

She’s going to come for him if she can, he knows she will. There’s no way she won’t. He just has to wait and hope he’s ready.

\-------

She comes for him when he’s sleeping. He wakes up, groggy and confused, to the sensation of someone picking him up. So used to Derek picking him up when sleeping, he might’ve drifted back off to sleep, if he hadn’t felt frost slowly creeping across his skin. His eyes shoot open and he scrambles out of her arms, falling back onto the bed. She grabs him by the throat and slams him against the wall, choking him. He gets his first good look at her and freezes in horror. An unnaturally bright red eye stares back at him, glowing and pulsing. Her arms are too thin and her hands have been twisted into claws. Mangled hair hangs over her face and body, hiding most of her from view, but through the locks he can catch a glimpse of a large, fang ridden mouth, glowing and pulsing red along with her eye. Vanessa’s  **_corrupted_ ** .

The world feels wrong. His vision looks tainted and wrong, everything off color and twisted. His breathing quickens out of his control, his heart feels like it’s going to beat its way out of his chest. He swears he can hear screaming in his ears. He wants nothing more than to run, his body shaking and shivering with fear, but he can’t move. Trapped by her hands and ice. Garbled words make their way out of Vanessa’s mouth, insane rambles about how much she missed her prince and how she’ll never let him go again. He can feel snow falling on his shoulders and hair, can see ice spreading across the floor, can feel her claws piercing his skin. He gasps and tears at her hand, his lungs screaming for air. She tightens her grip. Desperate, he reaches into the shadows at his back and slips into them, breaking free of her grasp. Vanessa  _ screams _ . Reaches into the shadows for him, her claws struggling to grab him. He lets the shadows whisk him away, far away from her, and pops out in a completely different area of the castle. 

He stands but immediately falls back down, suddenly dizzy. His breaths come in desperate pants, his mind feels foggy and slow, but he forces himself up onto his knees. Knowing that Vanessa would be searching for him. He claws over to a hiding place, a safe spot under a table, and lets himself rest for a moment. The sudden panic that overwhelmed him has left just as quickly as it came. He could attribute it to trauma, but that panic felt wrong somehow, forgein, as though it wasn’t coming from him. He’ll figure it out later, now he needs to find a way out of here. His body feels tired and heavy, the shadows slack, and he knows he won’t be able to teleport away like that again. He’ll have to get out of here the normal way.

He creeps through the hallways, jumping at every sound. The castle’s strangely empty, he feels a burst of dread, praying that everyone hasn’t been killed. Her voice floats through the building. Begging him to come back, asking why he ran, desperate to know where he is. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t reply. Just sneaks through the halls, hoping he can make it before she catches him. He’s almost there, when he hears it. A quiet drone, nearly silent footsteps, frost cracking. He dives into a nearby room and hides under a table, watching the door. The drone gets louder, evolving into quiet screaming. His vision starts to get wonky again, the colors brightening and going wrong, objects warping and twisting. His breathing speeds up, his heartbeat growing faster and faster. The door slams open, and Vanessa walks into the room.

The screaming becomes a high pitched wail, his vision pulses. He shakes, hit with the strong overwhelming urge to run, to scream, to make a break for it, before she finds him, she can’t find him, he can’t let her find him. He curls up, forcing himself to stay still. Running now is suicide. Her eyes dart around the room, her breathing’s loud and hagged. She starts to walk forward, ice trailing behind her. He watches her, breathing getting faster as she passes by. She walks further into the room, searching. The urge grows stronger and, before he can stop himself, he books it. Racing towards the door. Before he can even blink, Vanessa’s slammed him against the wall. She freezes his mouth shut before he can scream. He kicks and struggles, fire flaring up around his arms. 

She slams his head into the wall, again, and again, and again, and again. Until his vision is nothing but a hazy blur, until his thoughts feel like they’re stuffed with cotton, until he can feel blood running down his head. She freezes his wrists and ankles together, throws him over her shoulder, and carries him out of the castle. His head’s too dizzy to make sense of where they’re going, only that he’s being taken  _ somewhere _ . His head knocks against her back, his blood dripping down onto the grass. He groans, squinting at the world around them. It takes him a moment to realize they’re in the forest. That he’s  _ maskless _ in the forest. He desperately struggles, twisting and turning. Vanessa turns, annoyed, and slams his head into a tree. There’s a horrible burst of pain in his skull and the world flickers away to black

\-------

He needs to  **burn** . He feels the fire inside his chest, large and bright, licking at his insides, begging to  **burn** . He needs to  **burn** but he  _ can’t _ , not with the ice covering his body. He’s too cold, the ice chips away at his fire, keeping him from  **burning** away into ash. He screams and struggles, kicks and bites, but no matter what he does he can’t break the ice holding him to the tree. He hates the tree. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, time has no value to a corrupted soul, just that it’s been a  **_long_ ** time. He’s hungry. He hates it, he shouldn’t be hungry he should be  **burning** ! He should be nothing more than fire and smoke and ash and light! Instead he’s cold, and hungry. He blames  _ her _ . 

The black one that reeks of rot and has eyes the color of freshly spilt blood, the one who just watched as his body warped and cracked and twisted into a new form. Ice and cold follows _her_ every step, clings to _her_ like a disease. He doesn’t remember _her_ , he doesn’t remember anything, but he still _knows_ _her._ Like an itch in the back of his fogged mind, broken memories of ice and blood and chains making themselves known whenever _she_ shows _her_ face. He hates the memories, hates how they make his fire scream and his body shake and his eyes bleed. He makes sure to hiss at _her_ whenever he sees _her_ , in the hopes that _she’ll_ stop coming back and let the memories die, in the hopes that _she’ll_ take away her ice and frost and snow and let him **burn**. It hasn’t worked yet. So he hangs there, iced to the tree, hungry and cold, the fire inside begging to **burn**. The world passes, and _she_ returns.

_ She’s _ angry this time, pacing and muttering, ice spiking around her. He clings closer to the tree as he watches the ice spike, watches it shoot out from the ground. His body shaking and mind screaming for reasons he can’t remember. There’s a crunch nearby, somewhere hidden in the trees.  _ She _ screams, whips around to face the sound, ice spiking and climbing higher. Something rises up from the ground and wraps around  _ her _ legs, picking her up and throwing her away. A masked human appears in the forest and races towards him. He hisses at them too. They touch the ice clinging to his body, looking it over. Vines rise up and tangle themselves around his body, around the ice. They start to pull, cracking and shattering the ice. It only takes a few moments for him to break free of his icy confines. 

He stumbles away from the tree, standing on shaky legs. The fire in his chest grows, happy to finally be free of the oppressing cold, and he snaps his head around, looking for somewhere he can finally  **burn** . The masked human gets his attention again, talking to him and beckoning him to follow them. The words annoy him, itching at the memories in the back of his mind, but the mask makes him shake with anger. He wants to tear it off their face, to crush it into pieces, to  **burn** it until it’s nothing but ash. He follows them, flames licking up and out of his mouth, tensing and preparing to dive at them the closer he gets. The human, noticing how tensed up he is, gestures for him to stop, and takes off their mask. A woman appears, which is odd. He didn’t think humans could just teleport and replace each other like that.

Bright red hair...freckles. He groans and puts his head in his hands. Her face pulls at the jagged remains of his memories, flicking thoughts telling him he knows this face. She talks to him, scared eyes and desperate words begging him to follow her, that it’ll be okay. Slowly, he follows her further into the forest, the fire begging him to burn but his mind curious about where this is going. He follows her for a while, the unmasked human constantly urging him to go quicker. They’re getting close to the forest’s edge when there’s a loud scream behind them. Both of them whip around to see  _ her _ , enraged and spreading ice everywhere. 

The trees near  _ her _ move and twist and wrap around her, holding her still, but she just freezes them and breaks out of their grip.  _ She _ turns all the plants around her to nothing more than frozen statues, yells and cries about how she won’t let  **anyone** take her prince away again. The unmasked human runs in front of him, making the grass and vines and trees grow to protect them and hold back  _ her _ .  _ She _ grabs and pulls at the vines and roots pulling  _ her _ away, freezing them and yelling frustratedly when they keep coming back. She raises her arms, gathering vines and roots into a giant stalk, and slams it down on  _ her _ , causing the very ground to shake and rumble.  _ She _ goes down with a shriek, crushed under the plant mass. A moment passes, the plant starts to slowly freeze over and is quickly torn to shreds as large spears of ice jut out from  _ her _ . 

It’s starting to snow.  _ She _ screams and sends ice racing towards them, sharp and ready to pierce. She makes the vines rise, using them to tear and crack and throw the ice before it can reach him. The ice spreads under her feet and she jumps, slamming her vines on the ice once again to break it.  _ She _ darts towards her, grabs her by the arm, spreading ice over her skin,  _ her _ claws digging in and drawing blood. She yelps, struggles and makes the grass under  _ her _ feet pull  _ her _ away. She breaks free but doesn’t notice the large wave of ice  _ she _ sent until it’s too late. The unmasked human’s thrown into a tree, the blow knocking the breath out of her, and a sharp shard of ice goes right through her leg. She  **screams** , tears forming in her eyes from the pain. The ice is coated with blood and her leg looks mangled and broken and  Vanessa’s moving closer and  he can’t breathe and he can feel his blood filling his lungs and there’s bits of his flesh and organs stuck to the blood painted ice and he can hear  _ her _ laughing.

He shakes, he shakes and he watches as  Cam tries and fails to stand, watches as the plants around her freeze to nothing, watches as her blood drips down the crystal and splatters the perfect white snow. He feels flames gatter in his hands, in his mouth, in his entire being. Not to  **burn** him, but to  **burn** another. He puts his hands on the ground, pushes as much magic out as he can, focuses it into pure light, feels all the fire in his soul move and twist as it pushes itself into one goal. Vanessa’s only warning is the ground beneath her feet lighting up. Pure light pushes itself out of the ground, hitting  _ her _ dead center. It’s a beautiful rainbow of color, lighting up everything around it. The ground shakes and rumbles as it goes, he can hear  _ her _ screaming. He digs his claws into the ground and pushes more fire. The laser is horribly loud, screaming and wailing as it flows up into the sky. Under it, he hears the sound of glass cracking. There’s a horrible pain in his chest, a pulse that grows stronger as the attack goes on. He makes it keep going. He can’t hear anything but the wail of the blast, can’t feel anything but the shaking and the ground under his claws. His fire keeps going and going and going, prolonging the attack, feeding it and brightening it. It feels like his body is falling apart from the inside out. The light tearing through him. His lungs and chest collapsing. His heart burning. His soul shattering.

He pushes out the last of his fire, and the world is no more.

\------

The first thing he’s aware of is light, forcing his blurry and tired eyes open. He groans. He feels like he was run over by a horse. His head hurts horribly, his chest feels like it got impaled all over again. He slowly blinks his eyes open, squinting and glancing around his surroundings. He’s….in Cam’s bedroom? He frowns and tries to sit up, but hisses and lays down as the pain in his chest doubles. He sighs, tries to think of the last thing he remembers. He remembers….fire, burning, ice, cold, Cam screaming, her blood dripping on ice, light, a rainbow of colors being pushed out from his very soul, Vanessa screaming, a horrible pain in his chest, then nothing. He stares up at the ceiling, struggling to make sense of it all. 

His head snaps up when he hears the door open. Logan walks in, carrying a tray of food and medical supplies. The prince doesn’t seem to notice he’s awake at first but looks to him in disbelief when he quietly coughs out his name. The two of them stare at each other for a moment, before Logan accusingly points at him and asks if he could stop almost dying for  _ two fucking seconds. _ The Helsoner stomps over to him and he hears Logan mutter under his breath that he better not have broken any of his stitches. A moment passes, the prince looking over his chest and him just...laying there. After a beat, Logan gives him a small, awkward hug, says he’s glad he’s alive. When they pull apart, he realizes the other is crying a bit. He gives Logan a small smile, says it’s ok, he’s alright now. Logan sniffs, gives him a small smile, wipes his eyes, says he’s going to get the others.

A minute passes, Logan comes back, Derek following close behind. Debrah comes in, supporting Cam who’s using a crutch. Cam’s left leg is completely bandaged up, and she clearly can’t walk on it. He feels a sting of guilt, knowing he’s the reason her leg got broken, and tries to apologize. She bonks him on the head, says he’s not allowed to apologize when he’s the one who almost died. Then she hugs him, tightly. Says he’s not allowed to almost die again with tears in her voice. He hugs her back, promises he’ll try not to. Derek sits next to him on the bed, hugs him too, strong but gentle so they don’t aggravate his injuries. Deb hugs him too, then Logan, pretty soon they’re all just a big pile on his bed. He smiles, tears starting to form in his eyes, hugs them all back. Thea gives a wet laugh, finally safe, surrounded by his new family.


End file.
